ten
. . .
Poppy
I waitedfor a call for the next twelve hours, unable to sleep in the same bedroom I’d slept in my entire life, all alone. I created pretty spaces around me from plush pillows to quilts, but in the end, I only used one of the pillows and half the bed was always cold—just like Aaron had insinuated. I waited for Michelle to call me and tell me that I was off the project and out of the running for the promotion. Even more likely? Fired.
Everything I’d worked for was about to be gone, all because I’d slapped Aaron Hayes.
I’d never slapped anyone before. I still couldn’t quite believe that it’d happened. I wouldn’t if my hand didn’t still sting from force or the memory.
Hours ticked by. One after the next. But I never got the call.
My entire night had been as quiet as the drive as I anxiously made the trip back out of the city and toward the cabin, unsure of what awaited me when I walked through the mudroom door, using my key.
My heart rate rocketed from its anxious stutter as I entered the house again to a full-on race. I’d figured that maybe Aaronwould still be upset with me for some reason, still likely unknown to man, but I hadn’t expectthis.
This felt excessive.
For a second, I thought it was a wolf. A small, short-haired wolf, sure, but a very dark, menacing wolf. My eyes widened on the animal staring back at me.
His dark golden eyes pierced into my soul with a cock of its head, taking stock.
“Nice … dog?” I ventured.
The dog had a slight limp as it took another step forward, making a low sound from the back of its throat.
What did I do?
Run? Freeze? Play dead?
“Hey!” Aaron trailed around the corner and snapped, but not at me. He swooped his hand under the dog’s metal collar and pulled him back a step, looking the dog directly in the eye and almost baring his teeth at the thing. They looked like twins, right down to the nervous hitch in their legs. “Nice. You’re a goddamn house dog now. Get used to it.”
I might’ve died and gone completely catatonic.
I blinked a few times before I found my voice again. “You have a dog?”
The dog stared up at him after being let go. Or maybe it was a glare.
If it was the latter, maybe I wasn’t at a complete loss at making friends with the animal. I took my own time to look at Aaron, taken aback.
For a second, I could’ve been convinced that there was an entirely different man standing in front of me. This morning, Aaron was crisp and clean. He wore a tight shirt underneath—was that a green-and-brown flannel? His hair was fresh with loose waves that fell over his head, growing out from the shortbuzz on the sides it must’ve been before, along with his beard that he hadn’t shaved yet.
Maybe he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to look presentable when he was hiding out here.
He was fitting the part of woodsy grouch rather well. He looked like he was about ready to head outside and start chopping down a few trees for firewood, wiping his unkempt brow with the back of his flannel sleeve.
I snapped myself out of the vision.
“Where did you get it?” I asked.
“What do you mean,where did I get it?” Aaron responded with undisguised disgust, though I was still debating whether it was toward the dog or me.
I didn’t know how I could be clearer. There hadn’t been a dog in this cabin any other day I was here, unless he was hiding it somewhere.
Had he found it in the woods? Was it a stray?
Oh God. I looked around the freshly stained floors for any scenes of a new mess. Was the dog even house-trained?